


The Burning Heart

by noname



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Domestic, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Parenthood, Sarcasm, Single Parent Castiel, Single Parent Dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-03-26 14:10:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3853531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noname/pseuds/noname
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester is a single father of two. He's content with the way his life has turned out, even after all the shit he's been through. That said, he's not really looking for someone to share his life with. He can't help but notice the handsome guy at The Roadhouse, though. What the hell are you supposed to do if you can't stop thinking about a stranger you met at a diner, when you have two kids to worry about?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Moving Closer

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> This is the first time I've written anything with the intention of posting, so please excuse possibly poor structure, and any mistakes you might come upon. Since no one has been allowed to read my stories since I was eight years old, constructive criticism is more than welcome and greatly appreciated.
> 
> (Also, if anyone asks, I'm blaiming this whole idea on sleeplessness and a fever, so whatever happens in this fic, it's not my fault. Meaning: I have no plan whatsoever, and this might turn out any way it wants!)
> 
> Enjoy!

Seventeen. Seventeen pieces of candy within twenty minutes. A grown-ass man has popped seventeen pieces of candy into his mouth during the last twenty minutes, and it's driving Dean nuts. You don't go to a diner for lunch unless you're actually going to order something, and you sure as hell don't go to a diner just to eat candy like a kid on halloween. The only reason Dean hasn't left the place yet, is because he wants pie for desert, and this place has the best pie in town.

As if she can sense his grumpyness, Ellen makes her way over to his table and pours him some more coffee. "If you don't stop glaring daggers into that boy's back, I'll soon have the cops asking me about a corpse", she says, her voice calm and amused.

"Yeah, well, the cops in this town could use a little excitement every now and then", Dean mutters back. "What's he even doing here, anyways? It's not like he's doing anyone a favor by excisting."

"I'll have you know, Gabriel is a regular, and he's a good man, so don't you go talking about my customers like that, boy." Ellen gives him a warning glare, and sits down in front of him. "What's got your panties in a twist today?" she asks in a softer voice.

Shrugging, Dean slumps back in his chair and drags a hand down his face. "I'm the worst father of the century."

Ellen chuckles and reaches a hand across the table to pat his arm. "I've seen worse."

"Gee, thanks", he sighs, but can't help a tiny smile from stretching his lips a little. "You know, I always thought Sam was bad during puberty. He was so... preachy. All 'we need to eat healthier, Dean', 'don't skip class, Dean', 'you should exercise more, Dean', and I couldn't stand it. I thought I'd never meet someone who could push my buttons like Sammy. I now realize I was incredibly naïve when I was younger." He scratches at the back of his neck and goes quiet for a moment, gazing out the window at all the people rushing through their lunch breaks, before looking back at Ellen and continuing. "Honestly, Ellen, you deserve a fucking medal. Jo turned out great, and I have no freaking idea how you managed that. She was bat-shit crazy for a while there, but you always stayed in control."

"Yeah, they can be a pain in the ass, really. Teenage girls are God's way of testing us." She crosses her arms and frowns at him. "Are you alright on your own? Maybe you should try to find someone to share the burden with?"

Now it's Dean's turn to chuckle. He shakes his head and continues smiling as his gaze once again drifts. It's not like the thought has never crossed his mind. He's a thirtysix-year-old single father of two; of course he has the occasional daydream about coming home to someone, about falling asleep and waking up next to someone. It's just not all that easy to _find_ that someone. Dean's never been very good at comitting to relationships to begin with, and it's not like it's any easier when he has to think about his kids. If you have kids, you can't jump into bed with just anyone, and see where it goes. Even if that was a completely acceptable thing to do, it's not like Dean can do it, anyways. Ellen knows that better than anyone. And he's not on his own, even if he doesn't have a partner. He has his kids, and that's way more than he could have ever asked for.

After a few minutes have passed in silence, Ellen stands up. "I've got to get back to work. How about some apple pie?" she says with a wink.

 

 

* * *

 

 

As Dean enjoys the perfectly baked pie, sugarboy stuffs another thirteen pieces into his mouth. Actually, it's probably more than just thirteen, but the thing is, Dean lost count. The man sitting across from sugarboy caught his attention instead, and in Dean's own opinion, that man is a much more enjoyable view than his companion. Apart from possibly being the most attractive man Dean has ever seen, the guy is eating proper food, instead of just candy. It happens to be so, that he's currently eating apple pie, just like Dean himself, meaning he's not just pretty on the outside, but on the inside, too.

When he smiles, the man stretches his mouth so his gums are showing, and it's ridiculously cute. The corners of his eyes wrinkle in a very charming way, and help make his eyes stand out more. As if that's even needed, when you have the bluest eyes ever. It's totally stupid, but Dean spends the rest of his lunch staring at a stranger, memorizing his face. It's not like there's any harm in staring at someone you'll never talk to.

Just as he heaves a sigh and gets up to leave, however, the handsome stranger does the same, and they meet awkwardly by the door, simultaneously moving for the handle.

"Oh, I'm sorry. It was not my intention to be rude", the stranger says. He doesn't pull his hand back, like Dean already has. Instead, he tugs the door open and gestures for Dean to walk out ahead of him. "I couldn't help but notice you talking to Mrs. Harvelle earlier, and I wouldn't dream of offending a friend of hers", he smiles kindly once they're outside.

Returning the smile, Dean answers, "nah, don't worry about it, man. You've got nothing to apologize for. You're totally right wanting to keep Ellen on your good side, though."

The stranger laughs quietly, his eyes never leaving Dean's. In spite of everything that went through Dean's head only a matter of minutes ago, there's something pulling him in, making him want to get to know this man. Possessing very little self-control, he thrusts his hand out. "I'm Dean. Winchester."

"Castiel Novak", he answers easily. "Pleasure to meet you. I apologize for having to make this conversation short, but I have somewhere to be. I hope we'll meet again, Dean."

"Yeah, I'll see you around", Dean smiles, quickly covering up any possible signs of disappointment. He's only exchanged a few words with the guy, damnit, there's seriously no reason whatsoever for him to get upset about having to say goodbye so soon. Of course, that doesn't stop him from feeling a bit miserable when Castiel wishes him a nice day and walks away in the opposite direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a sucker for background info, regardless of how unnecessary it really is. To give the characters complete personal information, I've combined facts from the show, facts about the actors, and a small amount of imagination, making sure it all adds up in my structured chaos of a mind.
> 
> (These will – hopefully – all turn out to be the main characters. Please be patient with me!)
> 
> ”Dean” Michael Winchester — 24/1-1979  
> Kristina ”Krissy” Mary Winchester — 5/11-1999  
> Benjamin ”Ben” Isaac Winchester — 29/3-2003
> 
> "Castiel" (/”Cas”) James Novak — 20/8-1975  
> ”Claire" Grace Novak — 8/2-2000
> 
> Samuel ”Sam” Henry Winchester — 2/5-1983  
> ”Sarah” Blake Winchester — 29/4-1984  
> ”Jesse” Hunter Winchester — 13/11-2004  
> ”Audrey” Millie Winchester — 24/9-2008


	2. I'm On My Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this escalated pretty quickly...

"Mr. Winchester, this is the second time in a month. I can't tolerate this kind of behavior. Last time you and I saw each other, I was under the impression that we were on our way to a solution, and that we'd soon see an end to this. Now, I've been patient with Kristina. We all understand it's been a difficult time for you and your family these past years, and so we've been cautious when dealing with your daughter. But this has gone too far. We've allowed her rebellious ways, but it can't go on. We need to set up proper rules and boundaries, and we need you to be onboard with it." Principal Moseley stares Dean square in the eye, as if she's challenging him to argue with her.

She's a kind-hearted and intelligent woman, Dean knows that. He's had enough experience with her to be able to appreciate the woman as much more than just the principal of his daughter's school. That's how he knows she's one hundred percent serious right now. "What did she do?" he asks, squirming in the uncomfortable chair. He has a really bad feeling about this.

Heaving a sigh, the woman takes off her glasses and leans back in her chair. "As you might have already gathered, she got into a physical fight. In her defense, she got some nasty insults thrown her way, but let me tell you, Dean, that girl didn't deserve what Kristina did to her. There was more blood and viciousness than I'd ever like to see outside of the movie theater. It didn't end pretty."

"So Krissy threw the first punch, right?" Dean asks. He feels slightly guilty when the principal gives him a short nod of an answer. After all, he's the one who's taught her how to fight, how to defend herself. In a way, he's projected his own ways onto Krissy: it's easier to solve problems using fists, than it is using words. "Ms. Moseley, what did, uhm... the other girl say to her?"

"Claire Novak, that's the name of the other girl. And I think it would be better if Kristina told you what happened. It would be good for her to talk about her feelings. Make sure you take the time to listen to her, you hear me?"

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Dean leaves the principal's office, he really does intend to sit down and talk things through with Krissy in a calm manner. He considers what to say and what to do, and he's thinking about telling her some of the shit he did when he was her age, in the hopes of making her feel better (and less lonely, maybe?). Like that time he accidentally shot his woodwork teacher in the face, using a slingshot. The teacher, Mr. Turner, had instructed his students to make something that reminded them of their younger years, and it's not like Dean could ever have gotten away with making a gun or a knife. So he made a slingshot. And he was just going to test it, to make sure his work was impeccable. Since one if his classmates – James, if Dean remembered it correctly – was freakishly good at dart, he had made a bullseye. Naturally, Dean aimed for said bullseye, and happened to be out of luck. Mr. Turner stepped out in front of the target just as Dean let go of the rubber band. Or, he could tell her about the time he skipped school to participate in a parade, only to find his dad being one of the cops sent out to keep the situation under control. Telling her one of those stories would surely feel safer than telling her about one of his own fist fights. 

All these plans fly straight out of the window the second Dean spots Castiel. He's standing not too far away, talking to a teacher. There's a blonde girl right next to him, leaning in against his side. Her face is bloody and swollen. Claire _Novak_. Like _Castiel_ Novak. Dean is finally starting to connect the dots here, and if he's right, his own daughter is very much responsible for the blood currently covering Castiel's daughter. He hopes he's wrong, but he highly doubts it.

"Castiel?" he asks, and walks up to the small gathering.

The teacher, Mrs. Hudak, looks up at him and says, "ah, Mr. Winchester. How nice of you to join us. I assume you haven't had time to talk to your daughter yet, but I suggest you and Mr. Novak here exchange contact information. I believe it would be a good idea for you to discuss this conflict once you've talked to Kristina." Her gaze shifts between Dean and Castiel as she wishes them both a nice evening, and she walks away after sending a polite smile in Claire's direction.

They all watch her until she disappears around a corner further down the hall. Castiel then turns to Dean, and looks as if he would like to smile, but thinks it would be inappropriate, and Dean can definitely relate to that. His heart has actually fucking sped up, just from seeing Castiel again. But Dean's daughter appears to have beaten the crap out of Castiel's daughter, so to smile and start flirting with the man doesn't seem like the best of ideas.

"Hello, Dean", Castiel says.

Dean smiles, even though the voice inside his head yells at him for it. "Hey, Cas." And shit, Dean just gave the man a nickname. _Smiling and flirting is not the best of ideas, goddamnit._

Castiel doesn't seem to mind, though. He actually smiles back, and he doesn't question the nickname. "It's good to see you again", he says.

Claire stares up at her dad like he has effectively lost his shit. By all means, Dean can't really blame her for that, what with the drying blood decorating more than half of her face. She shoves her elbow square in Castiel's ribs, and gives him a meaning look.

Scratching his neck, Castiel looks a little confused. "It appears", he says, and looks from Dean to Claire, and then back again, "that our daughters are caught in a dispute."

"Hate to break it to you, but that", Dean says, and gestures at Claire, "isn't the result of a dispute. That's the result of a war. And I think Mrs. Hudak's right. I need to talk to Krissy, hear her version of the story, but we should do what she suggested. Just so you and I can talk about it, and maybe see what we can do to help fix it. If that's alright with you?"

"You mean I should give you my phone number", Castiel clarifies. At Dean's nod, he hums. "Yes, that does sound like the best we can do for the moment." He reaches into his inside pocket, and fishes out a business card that he hands Dean.

Dean makes sure to touch Castiel's skin, since he barely remembers the feel of the other man's skin from their handshake the other day. The back of his hand, where Dean gently brushes his fingers against the soft skin, is warm. "Yeah, thanks. I, uh, I don't really have a card, but I'll make sure to text you later, alright?"

They just stand there, smiling at each other for a moment, until Claire decides to ruin their moment. "Seriously, stop. You're grown men, for God's sake. Act like it."

"I'll be looking forward to hearing from you", Castiel says, ignoring Claire.

Smiling, Dean says, "yeah, we'll be in touch."


	3. A New Life Begins Tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the shitty updating!

"Oh, come on! I can't read your mind, you know, you have to come out here and tell me what happened", Dean says, keeping his voice calm and his frustration in check. Talking to a wall wasn't at all how he'd planned on spending the night, but it's not like he can just turn around and walk away. "Krissy? Talk to me, buddy."

As soon as Castiel and his daughter had walked away, Dean had regained his normal brain functions and set out to find his daughter. Which turned out to be pretty easy, since he could see her from the main entrance. She was in the parking lot, leaning against their car, ignoring the other students. Somehow, she managed to look both huge and intimidating, as well as small and vulnerable, at the same time. The look on her face was beyond angry, her brows scrunched together tightly, but Dean could easily see through her tough exterior. To him, she looked like she needed a really big hug.

When he'd reached her and the car, she'd just climbed into the backseat — which was super weird, considering the kid had refused to ride in the back ever since she turned ten — and kept her mouth shut and her eyes stubbornly averted. Slamming the front door behind her before Dean had even gotten out of the car once they reached their house, Krissy went upstairs and locked herself in her room. Dean has now spent over forty-five minutes outside her door, trying to coax her out, without any response.

He has no freaking clue how to handle this situation. Especially not since she's never done anything like this before. Not that he's ever been too keen on discussing his own emotions, or anyone else's for that matter, but he can't for the world understand how locking herself in her bedroom will help his daughter at all. Krissy's a lot like Dean in many ways, but she is so much better at handling feelings and crap, and she's usually there to tell him what to do whenever he fucks up. She always let him know what to do to fix things again. Like that time Ben "ran away", and she told Dean he probably just went to Sam and Sarah, and that pretty much all Dean had to do was show up, give him a hug, and say 'sorry'.

_Oh, shit. Ben._

Dean has to pick Ben up from school, as well, but he's not too sure leaving Krissy would be a good idea at the moment _._ He'll have to call Sam and ask him to bring Ben home to his house. Fumbling around in his pocket, Dean realizes he left his phone in the car. "Kris, I'm just gonna go downstairs and get my phone, okay? I'll be back in a minute", he says.

Although Sam and Sarah bring Ben and Krissy to their house after school at least twice a week, Dean never really asked them to. It's more of a silent agreement that they do, so Dean can work another couple of hours to make enough money to give his kids what they need. It was just something Sam had started doing a few years back, sending Dean a quick text every Tuesday and Thursday, more often than not claiming that Ben and Jesse wanting to play together was the reason for it. Eventually, he'd stopped coming up with reasons, simply texting 'I got them'. So to ask Sam to pick Ben up on a Friday afternoon is... not exactly within Dean's comfort zone. Sure, Sam has always had his back, but asking for help is never the first thing Dean does when a problem arises.

Back in the days, when Dean was hanging out with the wrong people, doing the wrong things, and had reached his absolute rock bottom, was the last time he'd asked Sam for help. It's his goddamned job as the big brother to help, not be helped. Not that Krissy punching a girl is quite as bad as all the things Dean did back then, but still.

"Hey, Dean. What's up?" Sam answers with a cheerful tone.

It should be Dean helping Sam, not the other way around. "Hey, could you, uhm, maybe do me a little favor?"

As if Sam can immediately hear when something's wrong — which he probably can, the sensitive bastard —, he doesn't hesitate to say, "of course, dude!"

"Sammy, I need you to pick Ben up. Krissy got into a fight at school, and she won't talk to me, and I really need some time to figure out... whatever this shit is." Dean frowns at the ground. "I don't know what's going on."

His tone going gentle, Sam says, "no problem, Dean. Take all the time you need, okay? And if you manage to sort things out a little, you're both welcome over for dinner at seven, alright?"

"Yeah. Thanks"

"Okay, don't worry about it. Good luck."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dean grabs a bag of chips and a beer before returning back upstairs. Thinking it was probably better to just wait for Krissy to come out on her own accord, rather than pushing her, he also grabs a pillow from his own bed, and a book from his nightstand, before plumping down against the wall right beside her bedroom door.

To his relief, it doesn't take very long after that, for Krissy to emerge from her room, arms crossed over her chest and a deep crease between her eyebrows. "I'm not apologizing to her, you know", she says, giving him a defiant look.

"I didn't ask you to. I'd like to know what happened, though." He makes a move to get up, and can't help but to add, "but not here, though. My butt's killing me, and I'm too old to be on the floor like this."

Krissy makes a big deal of rolling her eyes, but she also extends a hand to help him up, so he just smiles softly at her.

It's awkwardly silent for a few minutes, as they settle down on couch. Dean grabs the remote and flicks the TV on for some quiet background noise and something to focus his eyes on if he needs a moment to think. Krissy steals his bag of chips and settles back against the armrest, propping her feet up on Dean's lap. "Can I have a sip?" she asks, nodding toward the bottle in his hand.

"Sure. When you're eighteen, you can", he answers flatly, and stares her right in the without so much as blinking. "Are you gonna tell me what happened?"

Averting her eyes, Krissy murmurs, "she said something about mom. She doesn't have a right to talk about her, none whatsoever, and she's definitely not allowed to say some fucking bullshit. But she did", she looks up at Dean with tearful eyes, before continuing, "she said that at least _her_ mom didn't want to die. As if mom wanted to get away from us, and dying was her only way out. Who the hell says something like that?!"

"I definitely shouldn't say this, but damnit if that girl didn't deserve a rearranged face", Dean mutters. He's not sure what else to say or do, se he gently pats Krissy's shin. He doesn't doubt his daughter's words, but he is struggling to understand how Cas's daughter could say something like that. And he sure as hell shouldn't be thinking like this, especially not when he's only ever met the guy twice, but... he'd love it if Krissy and Claire could get along, because he can't ask Cas out if their daughters hate each other.

They sit quietly again, and Dean knows he should do something more to try to comfort her, but he doesn't know what could possibly make her feel better.

As if she's reading his mind, Krissy say, "you could just try hugging me, you know. Hugs can't make everything better, but they rarely make anything worse, either."

Dean can't hold back the short huff of laughter escaping his mouth, but he does take her advice and leans forward to pull her close. "You know I'm going to have to talk to her dad, right?" he whispers against her hair. When she nods, he decides to tell her exactly how he feels. "And that's pretty weird, 'cause I've sort of been checking that guy out."

He expects her to get angry and draw back, which is why he's left feeling very confused when she says, "I know."

"Wha... How could you possibly know that?" he asks, pulling back enough to look at her face.

She raises one eyebrow and simply says, "Ellen."

 _Why am I not surprised?_ "So what do we do now?"

"You try to behave like a normal adult, and talk to him in a professional matter, with as little flirting as possible. We'll see what happens after that", Krissy says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Dean is even more confused now, and he's not sure he heard that right. "What do you mean? I thought you hated Claire?"

"Well, yeah, I'm sure you did. That's what Moseley thinks, isn't it? But I don't. I hate what she said, and I'm not going to forget it, but I don't _hate_ her." Her voice is calm and sincere, and, to Dean, that's just all kinds of fucked up. "I mean, she obviously realized she shouldn't have said that, considering she didn't hit back."

"I have no idea what you're trying to say, and I don't understand how you're so calm about it all, when you were just locked up in your room, refusing to answer me!" Dean says frustratedly.

Because what Krissy is now saying, sounds to Dean like she and Claire are kind of... secretely friends, or something. And if that's how it is, then Dean has even more questions. Like, why would Claire say something like to that to her friend? Why does everyone seem to think they're enemies? Why hasn't Krissy mentioned her before? How come she doesn't seem all that upset anymore? This is like one of those movies, where they set out to make you think that one crazy guy is the killer, when he's actually the good guy who saves the day. It doesn't make any sense until you reach the end, and Krissy obviously hasn't reached the end of her explaining, because Dean is still stuck at a scene where he thinks Claire is the killer, and he just _doesn't get it_.

Krissy tilts her head and squints a little at him, like she's made a point he's completely missed. "Claire's my friend, dad."

 


	4. To Be Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone was wondering, I'm definitely doing that thing were I steal the titles from music. The Burning Heart is an album (and a song) by Takida. All chapter titles so far, are from the lyrics to songs on that album. 
> 
> Also, if you come across an error or a weird phrase, don't hesitate to let me know. Anything that will help me improve my writing is welcome!

"How'd it go?" Sam asks, handing Dean a beer and sitting down next to him.

Keeping his eyes focused on Ben and Jesse, Dean ignores the question. "Should we really be letting them do that?" he says instead, inclining his head toward the two boys. Jesse had, apparently, found one of Sam's old soft air guns — which just goes to show how Sam's a sentimental little shit for keeping it for all these years, if you ask Dean —, and had insisted on trying it out. Before Dean and Krissy had come over, Sam had taught their sons how to shoot, and the entire backyard is now full of tiny bullets in white, yellow, and blue. At least it appeared Sam'd had the sense of mind to hide their homemade titanium ones. They were seriously the most badass kids on the block, back in the days.

Sam scrunches up his nose and answers, "obviously, I'd prefer not to, but that would kind of make me the biggest hypocrite ever, so... I guess we don't exactly have a choice." He shrugs, but when Dean glances over at him, he sees an affectionate smile on his brother's face as he watches their sons follow in their footsteps. "So how'd it go?"

"Do we really have to do this right now?" Dean grumbles.

"Yes."

He sighs and takes a sip of his beer, drawing it out for another moment to collect his thoughts. "Well."

Sam narrows his eyes. "'Well', what?" he asks.

"It. Went. _Well_." Dean smirks at Sam, who doesn't look even a little amused. "Oh, come on, you've gotta admit, that was funny."

"Dean."

Sighing again, Dean shakes his head. "I don't know. I really do think it went well, 'cause she was calm and reasonable and stuff. But I'm not entirely sure what the hell happened. Not that she didn't try to explain it all, it just didn't make any sense."

Sam nods, and looks like Dean's just handed him the solutions to all the problems in the world.

"Stop looking at me like that, you're driving me insane." Dean stubbornly glares at him for a moment, before giving in. "Fine. I'll tell you everything. Just stop looking like that, alright?"

Raising his hands in way of surrendering their little stare-down, Sam leans back and braises his elbows against one of the steps behind him. "I just want to help, Dean."

"Yeah, whatever. Staring at me won't help, and I'll tell you why; my daughter is friends with the girl she punched — the girl who just so happens to be the daughter of the hottest guy ever —, and apparently, they're friends because both of them lost their moms, but they never talk about their moms, and they usually insult each other in public, so the entire school thinks they're like James Bond and Dr. No, like arch enemies, and they do MMA together, because it helps them deal with all the frustartion that comes with not having a mom, which is why Krissy has such a mean punch, and the reason they started fighting — like, arguing, not aprring — was because of me and Cas, and that's crazy, because I've only ever met the guy like twice, but Ellen told Krissy about me checking him out, and when Krissy and Claire talked about it, it inevitably caused awkwardness because of their dead moms, and Claire said Lisa wanted to die to get away from Kris, or something like that", Dean rambles on.

"Please, breathe", Sam says, once again staring at Dean. This time, though, he doesn't look like he knows all the answers. "You never talk this much, Dean."

A frustrated noise escapes Dean, and he stands up. "I told you, I'm confused."

"What part don't you get?"

 _Every part._ No, that's not true. He understands most of it, really. Krissy had been a fighter since before she was born, but when Lisa'd died, she'd been remarkable. She'd stepped up and started taking more responsibility for her education, for Ben, and even for Dean. Whenever the weight of losing her mother was too much, she always came to Dean first, instead of going out and doing something stupid. But she'd never really talked to anyone about it, about how she felt, or otherwhise visibly dealt with it. So it made sense for her to befriend someone who knew what it was like. And being so much like her father, Krissy taking her frustrations out physically, through MMA, instead of talking about them, also made sense.

"Why didn't she tell me before? About Claire, and fighting?" he mumbles, fiddling with the label on the beer bottle.

Sam stands up, too, and puts his arm around Dean's shoulders. "That doesn't mean she doesn't trust you, Dean", he says, voice calm and soothing.

Leaning into his brother for support, Dean says, "what does it mean, then?"

"I think she found comfort in keeping a part of her life all to herself. Remember when we were young, and I used to hide under the bed to read? It was an easy escape from the outside world. When things were a little tough, it was a relief to be able to sneak away and just forget everything for a while. Maybe Claire is Krissy's book, and the MMA club is her space under the bed." Sam squeezes his shoulder reassuringly. "I love you to death, Dean, but reading under the bed was just what I needed, sometimes."

It's not exactly a new, sensational thing, but Sam's words do manage to calm Dean's frantic mind a little. It's annoying beyond belief when your little brother always has to be so goddamned smart about everything, but even Dean has to admit it can be pretty useful, from time to time.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 _Talk to him in a professional matter, with as little flirting as possible._ Yeah, there's no way that's going to happen. Dean could try telling himself otherwise, but there was just no way he'd be able to keep his voice from doing all kinds of weird things if he were to talk to Cas on the phone. He had to contact him, for sure, but he was not under any circumstances going to make a fool out of himself by having embarrassing, nervous voice cracks, or by stuttering, or speaking his thoughts out loud, saying how Cas's voice does things to him.

No, there's no way he's calling him. It's cowardly of him, but Dean is definitely sending Cas a text. Which leaves him with another problem: how's he supposed to start this conversation? They need to talk about Dean's daughter punching Cas's daughter in the face, and about Cas's daughter being a total bitch to Dean's daughter, and all that, obviously. But how do you even do that? 'Hey, man. So, your daughter is mentally abusive, and mine's physically abusive, what are we gonna do about that?' didn't really feel all too great. And do they actually need to talk? If Krissy and Claire are friends, surely they'll talk and try to sort things out themselves? They're fifteen years old, for crying out loud. If it was Dean, he'd have killed his parents for trying to sort his shit out behind his back when he was fifteen. Dean was positive he should leave that to the girls.

But he really wanted to talk to Cas. He probably shouldn't, but he wanted to.

Using your daughter's violence as an excuse to initiate contact with someone you're attracted to isn't that bad, is it?

"You're an awful man, Dean. You suck dick." _And you really want to suck Cas's dick._ "Shut up."

"Uhm, dad?" Ben's voice makes Dean shriek in a not-so-manly way.

He puts his hand to his chest and tries to calm his breathing. "Dude, you scared the crap out of me!" he says, giving his son a stern look. "Don't you dare pulling that shit on me, ever again."

Ben looks positively smug, and teases, "I will call you Dean from now on, then, is that what you're saying? So, Dean-"

"Asshole."

"Is that really how you should be talking to you twelve-year-old son, Dean? I think not."

" _I_ think you should shut your face", Dean says, and proceeds to act like a mature adult by sticking his tongue out. "What's up, squirt?"

Ben walks over to the couch and slumps down next to him. "Krissy said you have a boyfriend."

Dean actually chokes on air, and Ben has to get right back up and slap Dean on his back, before getting him a glass of water. Dean's eyes tear up from coughing, and he spills some of the water on his lap when he tries to take a sip a little too early. "When did she tell you that?" he finally manages to croak out.

"When we got home from Uncle Sam last night. So it's true?" he says, looking Dean square in the eye.

"What?" Dean splutters. "No! Of course it's not true!"

Ben attempts to raise one if his eyebrows in a no nonsense-kind of way, but it ends up looking kind of cute, as both his eyebrows rise in a lop-sided way. "Then, why would she say that?" he asks, completely oblivious to his cute expression.

 _If there's one thing I'm good at, it's making babies with adorable faces._ "Why would she say what?" Dean's lost track, because the eyebrows may be a little off, but that's still one the faces Lisa used to make when she was calling Dean out on his bullshit.

"Why would Krissy say you have a boyfriend, if you don't?" Ben clarifies patiently.

Oh, well, that's one good question, that right there. "I don't know why."

"Liar." Yeah, that boy definitely takes after his mother when it comes to dealing with Dean.

Dean's so not ready to talk to his son about crushing on Cas. And while he's managed to create good-looking kids, he failed at making kids who can keep their mouths shut and their nosees out of other people's business. "I've been checking this guy out, okay? But I've only met him twice, and I don't know the guy, so your sister shouldn't be saying anything about it."

Ben nods his head, and damnit, he not only takes after Lisa's way of dealing with Dean, he also takes after Sammy, and now he looks like your typical therapist, tilting his head and nodding along. "So that's why you were calling yourself an awful man", he says, matter-of-factly.

"What?" Dean says, once again.

"You're annoyed with yourself for liking him so much, when you barely know anything about him."

 _"What?"_ Dean doubtlessly _needs_ to extend his vocabulary.

Ben gives him a comforting pat on the knee. "It's okay, dad. You're not an awful man _all the time_ , just on occasion. But if you like this guy, you should try to get to know him, because it's a little creepy to fantasize about a complete stranger. Just saying." And with that, he gets up and exits the room, just as quickly as he entered it moments ago.

Huh. Dean just receiived romantic advice from a child. That's great. What's even more great, is that he's going to do just that; he's going to try toget to know Cas.

Deciding to just get his thumb out of his ass and stop thinking so much about it, Dean pulls out his phone and starts typing a text.

 

 

> **Hey. How's Claire's face doing? //Dean**

 

 

He puts his phone down on the coffee table, and goes into the kitchen to find himself some cheetos. Because yes, it's the middle of the day, and he should probably be getting started on making lunch, but he's a grown man and he can have cheetos if he wants to. Just as he's about to sit back down, the phone vibrates with an answer.

  

 

> **I'm happy to hear from you.**

 


	5. Now Fire Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was planning on posting this nearly a month ago, and I don't really have any excuse for being so shitty at updating, but I really am sorry! 
> 
> Also, I'm not at all happy about this chapter, but I hope I'll be able to make up for it in later chapters!
> 
> Thank you for bearing with me!

 

 

> **Dude, I just had to play nice to the worst guy EVER. He was kind of hot, but then he opened his mouth, and it was disgusting.**

 

 

Dean sighs and drops his phone on the table in the break room. He's having a pretty bad day, and all he wants is to go home and sleep. It's only six o'clock, though, and it's a Tuesday, so his shift's not over until seven. If he asked Bobby nicely, he'd probably be able to leave immediately, but... he kind of needs the money.

There isn't even much to do, at the moment. Even the Buick Ventury from '73, that wasn't supposed to be done until next week, was picked up earlier. Dean's been working his ass off in order to control his temper. It's hard when people come in and treat you like shit, to begin with, but it absolutely sucks when they seem to expect Dean to just wave his wand around and their car will be ready within the blink of an eye.

Naturally, Dean's little man crush has him thinking of Cas whenever he has time to, which is why he decided to text him. Ever since that first text the other week, they've talked almost every day. At dirst, they talked about Krissy and Claire, mostly. When they finally started talking about more random stuff, getting to know each other for real, the air had changed. Dean's honestly not entirely sure he's not just dreaming, because seriously, how could he possibly think he knows the exact tone of Cas's voice when he sends a simple _Hello, Dean_? That's just crazy. But he does. He _knows_ when Cas is tired, or angry, or whatever, just from his words in a short text. Seriously, though, it's insane.

Still, texting Cas makes him feel a little better, regardless of whether or not he's imagining their chemistry. And Cas always answers almost immediately.

 

 

> **I'm sorry to hear that, Dean. Is there anything I can do to help make you feel better?**

 

  

This, Dean's come to realize, is one of Cas's most prominent characteristics: he always offers a helping hand. Dean thinks it's adorable as fuck, and that's just stupid, because Cas is a man, not a baby. But even in situations like this, when it's obvious Cas isn't the one who did something wrong, and is far from responsible for Dean's happiness, he still wants to make things better.

Dean's just about to answer him, when he hears a car pulling up out front. A new customer. _Yay._

As if Dean's day isn't bad enough already, he recognizes the guy who enters the shop with an easy stroll. It's Sugarboy. That annoying little guy from The Roadhouse, what was it Ellen had called him? _Gabriel._

Dean's first impression of the guy was far from good. His second impression is way too similar to the first one. There's no way Dean's going to think of him as "Gabriel", not when he, once again, is working hard to eat as much candy as possible within a short period of time. Sure, Dean likes to indulge every now and then, too, but there is a big difference between eating an entire pie on your own, in the comfort of your own company, in your own house, and non-stop chewing in public.

His floppy hair isn't exactly helping. It reminds Dean of Sam's hair, and if there's one thing Dean wants to change about his own brother, it's his hair. It's beyond stupid.

"Where'd I screw up?" he asks, casually leaning against another customer's beautifully red, 1976 Chevy Laguna.

Dean clenches his jaw tightly to avoid doing something stupid, like spit on the guy, or maybe headbutt him — you don't lean on a shiny work of art, okay? —, before answering through his teeth. "Excuse me?" he growls.

Shoving two pieces of what looks like butterscotch in his mouth, Sugarboy cocks his head to the side and narrows his eyes thoughtfully at Dean. "You look like I personally offended you", he says with his mouth full.

Deciding that answering that would only cause him trouble, Dean changes the subject and behaves like a responsible adult, for once. "Can I help you?" he asks, faking a polite enough a smile, just for Bobby's sake. He doesn't want to risk losing him any potentially good customers — though, obviously good _customer_ doesn't equal good _person_.

"Well, I didn't come here for a nice chat. Actually, scratch that, I did. But I also came here to get my car fixed." He smiles back. Unlike Dean's, his smile is genuinly... not kind, but something similar.

"What's wrong with it?" Dean asks, pointingly avoiding the part about a chat. He's not interested in a chat, damnit.

Gabriel gives a short laugh, and answers, "I was hoping you'd tell me. Cars aren't really my thing, I'm more into... Anyway, will you look at it for me?"

When Dean pops the hood and leans forward to take a look inside, he prays to whatever God might be listeing, that the guy won't be one of those poeple who stands right next to him to watch him like a hawk. He's not, though. He's worse.

He's the talkative kind. "So, I'm Gabriel, by the way, in case you didn't know. And you're Dean Winchester", he says. "Now, you're probably wondering how I know that, am I right? 'Cause it's not everyday that you run into a stranger who knows who you are. Obviously, we're not _complete_ strangers, because we both favor The Roadhouse, and everyone at The Roadhouse is like one big family. But that's not how I know who you are — my niece told me about you."

Dean freezes. _Oh._ That makes sense, surprisingly enough. The way Gabriel cocked his head and narrowed his eyes earlier, Dean's seen Cas do that. And they did have lunch together, that day when Dean first met Cas, so they obviosuly know each other. Also, Gabriel said he came here for a chat, didn't he?

"You're his brother", Dean says, wanting to confirm his suspiscions.

When Gabriel doesn't answer, Dean's forced to look up at him and meet his gaze.

Gabriel is short where Cas is tall, has brown eyes where Cas has blue, his hair is several shades lighter than Cas's, and there are no other features Dean can safely say the two share. Yet Gabriel's eyes hold the same intensity as Cas's, and it throws Dean off, makes him hesitate before he speaks again.

"There's nothing wrong with your car", he finally concludes, holding Gabriel's eyes as he stands up straight again.

Shaking his head, Gabriel smiles a little. "Nope", he says, looking very pleased with himself. "I just wanted to take a good look at the man who's caught my little brother's interest. We're all very protective of our little Cassy, and I figured it would be better for all of us if _I_ was the one who went to see you, instead of one of the others."

"And 'we' are...?"

"He didn't tell you about us? His incredible family? There's Michael, Luke, me, and Anna. Cassy's the baby."

Dean just hums, because he has no idea what to say to that. He'd have bet on Cas being an only child, what with his unusually polite behavior and diplomatic point of view when it comes to physical fighting. He sure didn't seem like someone's little brother.

"Maybe I should just make it easy for you and get straight to the point here", Gabriel says after a short moment of silence. "You're invited for family dinner."


	6. Stories Repeating Here In My Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this has taken so long. I actually started immediately after posting the last chapter, but my computer crashed, and everything I'd written was lost forever. Since I'm far from patient, I sort of just gave up, and couldn't bring myself to try again until now... 
> 
> Again, not too happy with this. Hope you like it better than I do!

"I don't care what you say, I'm still not going", Krissy says stubbornly.

Since Dean is the best dad ever, and not at all stubborn himself, he tries a different approach. "Ten bucks if you come. You don't even have to behave, you just have to come along. Be your grumpy little self, I'm sure you'll charm them all with your flaming charisma. Ten bucks."

"No."

"Fifteen."

"No."

"Last offer: twenty bucks."

"No."

"Oh, come on. Twenty bucks for nothing, how can you turn that down? We don't have to stay for too long, just a couple of hours, or something." Dean glances at his daughter out of the corner of his eye, praying she'll agree. He just wants to see Cas again, is that really too much to ask for?

Krissy glares at him. "Twenty bucks for two hours means ten bucks an hour. That's beneath me even when I'm in a good mood. You're going to have to do a heck of a lot better than that, if you're going to try to buy me, you moron."

"Hey, don't be a brat! Ten bucks an hour is a lot more than you deserve, especially with that attitude!" Dean grumbles. "And don't call me a moron", he adds as an afterthought.

"Gee, dad. You sure know how to convince me", she mutters.

Another different approach, then. "Please?" Dean says softly, trying his best to look like a wounded dog.

Sighing dramatically, Krissy shakes her head. "You can't make me go."

"I can."

She narrows her eyes at him. "What are you going to do, drag me out of my room and carry me over your shoulder?"

Dean shrugs a little, and gives a short nod. "If I have to", he says.

"I hate you", Krissy says angrily, and crosses her arms across her chest.

"Oh, what are you, like, twelve?" Dean grimaces.

Both Dean's and Krissy's seats are pulled back a little, as Ben leans forward between them. "Hey! Excuse you. I'm literally _right_ here."

A bark of laughter escapes Dean, and he grins at Ben through the rearview mirror. "Sorry, buddy", he says, without a trace of remorse in his voice. Ben just makes a face at him, before leaning back.

"I'm not going", Krissy says in a hushed tone, edgyness gone from her voice, replaced with irritation. "You don't what they're like."

Dean frowns, and scratches at his chin, before hitting the indicator and making a left turn.

"Who?" Ben asks, when Dean doesn't say anything.

"Claire's uncles", Krissy says. "I mean, yeah, they have their good sides, and all, but..." she trails off, and when Dean glances at her again, she looks like she's searching for the right words. "They're a bitch when they're all together, alright?" she finally says, and stares at Dean's profile. "I'm not kidding when I say Gabriel is the least annoying one. Michael has got to be the worst control freak I have ever met, and Lucifer is like the rebellious child who'll fight you on anything you say, and they can't spend two minutes in the same room without bickering. And Gabriel sort of pushes them, like he's encouraging them to argue, even though he usually refuses to take sides, and it's just confusing and too much."

"What about Cas?" Dean asks.

Claire punches his arm in frustration. "That's all you got from that? The part I _didn't_ mention?"

"Kris, I can handle annoying little brothers, you know. I've been doing it since I was four." Dean slows down at a stop light, and focuses his full attention on his daughter. "I get it that you don't want to go, okay? I do. I hear you. But this is something I have to do, and I don't think I could do it without you guys. I don't want to, anyway."

She frowns at him. "You've only met him like once."

"Twice."

"Again, you're very convincing", Ben says helpfully from the backseat.

Dean turns around and shoves a finger, as best a he can reach, into Ben's chest. "You're supposed to be on my side. Bros before hoes."

Krissy huffs an unwilling laugh at that, and pushes Dean back into his seat. "I'm going to pretend you did not just call me a hoe. The light's green", she says.

"Does that mean you get it?" Dean asks, hoping she understands what he means.

Perfectly managing to read his mind, Krissy nods. "I'm not stupid, I know you like him. And I don't think that's wrong, not by any means. But I don't want to meet Claire's uncles for a while, because they're overprotective and maddening as fuck, and I just broke her nose."

Dean slams a hand down on the horn, as another driver cuts in right in front of him, and for a second, he has no idea what Krissy just said. "You broke her nose?" he says, voice shrill, when he understands the meaning of her words.

"He didn't tell you?" Krissy says carefully.

Clenching his teeth together, Dean concentrates on his driving. People are driving like they're still drunk from the night before, and there's no way he'll let anyone hurt his beloved car. Dean's not angry at Cas, or anything like that. If the tables were turned, he probably wouldn't have told Cas if Claire had broken Krissy's nose. He wouldn't want to risk Cas feeling like shit and stop talking to him because of guilt, or something like that. Of course, if that is why Cas hasn't told him, he probably has feelings for Dean. And while Dean hopes he does, he can't assume anything. He's not twenty, and he's not on his own.

"You sure you don't think it's wrong?" he asks.

"It's not", Krissy and Ben say in unison.

"How can it not be? 'Cause I think it's fucked up that I'm falling for the father of your friend, Kris. And I never told you I swing both ways, Ben. I haven't done anything right, so far."

Ben leans forward between their seats again, and puts his chin on Dean's shoulder. "The fact that you so desperately want our family to have dinner with his family, is, to me, enough proof of your feelings for him. And you're not doing everything wrong, 'cause you're actually asking us how we feel about it."

"I should have asked earlier. I've been talking to him for weeks, thinking about him constantly. I haven't felt like this since..."

Krissy cocks her head to the side, and look like she wants to argue him on that, but patiently lets Ben answer first.

"Since mom", Ben nods. "But you're asking us now", he says, simply. "And you told me about him the other week."

"Also, you had to get to know him first", she then adds. "There's no point in hearing our opinions about the two of you, if he turns out to be an ass."

Dean stears onto their driveway, and turns the engine off. "I raised you two well", he says, and gets out of the car.

"You're an idiot", Ben groans. "Feelings are natural, you know. You don't have to pretend you can't feel a damn thing. Especially not after practically pouring your heart out for what is likely the fiftieth time in two weeks."

"I don't know what you're talking about", Dean grins.

Krissy grabs his arm and walks with him to the front door. "I'll tell you what: twenty bucks, a chocolate bar, and a chick flick at the movies, and I might just help you get Claire's angel of a dad into bed. Even if it means suffering through two hours with his obnoxious brothers."

"I take it all back. I raised one of you well. The other one's a lost cause."


End file.
